


Hearth (30 Days of Prompts)

by JoifulDreaming



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Huddling For Warmth, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: There was a soft grunt from inside the fabric as he lowered them to the floor.  He reached for the hood and pulled it back.  Fiery red curls spilled out, shot through with ice and snow.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 90





	Hearth (30 Days of Prompts)

**Author's Note:**

> For my NaNoWrimo project: 30 days of short story prompts.

The snow he had been expecting, the screaming wind had been another thing altogether. He had burst in the door of the tiny cottage, hoping no one was home. That didn't mean there wouldn't be, but hope was hope. He wouldn't die in the elements, but even angels could suffer. Perhaps the lord of the manor had allowed them to stay in the main house tonight on account of the storm. Aziraphale would assume that. Just as he would assume that because the lord had not forbid him to take his rest here, that meant that he could. No one needed to know; he could tidy before he left. 

He sat down his pack near the only chair in the room and knelt in front of the hearth, working to get a fire going. It would take some time to warm the room, but he could at least get feeling back in his fingers and toes while he waited. Once that was accomplished, he packed the pot next to the fireplace with snow and swung it over the fire. When it came to boil, he poured some in a thick, earthen cup and dropped in tea leaves. Settling back in the chair, he sipped at the tea and sighed, bare toes pointed towards the flames. One day, he knew, humans would invent indoor heating. That was a long way off, though. The fire was nice, in the mean time. It popped and crackled, the light making the whole room dance and twitch. His eyes drooped as he watched it, mind drifting to a state of blank numbness as his body warmed.

A few more moments of warmth and quiet and he might have actually drifted to sleep- perish the thought- and missed the soft thump against the door. Setting down his now- empty cup he walked cautiously towards the door. It could be wild animals. It could be bandits. Any number of things could be on the other side. Still, he had best check to be sure.

The icy wind blasted him in the face when he opened the door, tearing at the warmth he had managed to accumulate. Immediately his teeth were on edge. No one was standing in the doorway. He nearly shut the door again, but happened to glance downward. Someone, bundled in a heavy woolen cloak, was curled up on the stoop. Aziraphale took a moment to look around in the darkness, but there was no one else. Grasping the stranger by the shoulder, he hauled them inside.

There was a soft grunt from inside the fabric as he lowered them to the floor. He reached for the hood and pulled it back. Fiery red curls spilled out, shot through with ice and snow.

“Now how did you find your self way out here, serpent?”

Crowley did not reply, just shivered deeply and tried to curl further into his cloak. The cloak was covered in snow and ice, too, which was rapidly melting now that he was inside. Aziraphale sighed and started to peel the cloak away, batting at Crowley's feeble attempts to pull it closer. It had protected him, somewhat, from the elements until now. But, now it would only impede in the angel's work to warm him up. Crowley's clothes under the cloak were mostly dry, thankfully, and would dry further once he was near the flames. 

Bending down and scooping the demon up in his arms was easy now without all the extra fabric: one arm under his knees, the other supporting his shoulders. He carried Crowley over to the hearth and lay him down on the soft, thick fur skin rug as close to the fire as he dared. He should, he knew, stand and go back to the chair for the night. There was no need to stay on the floor with Crowley, no need to be this close.

But another shiver coursed through the demon and he curled in on himself. Reflections of the fire danced over the curls that fell over his face. Aziraphale brushed them back behind his ear- marveling at how soft and silky they really were- to better look at his face. It was pale and drawn, revealing the pain of the chill still inside him. Were he awake, Aziraphale would make him tea. But no amount of coaxing would wake the demon. Aziraphale wondered, distantly, if it was the snake in him, hibernating.

Body heat, he knew, was the best way to warm someone up. He just wasn't sure exactly how Crowley would feel if he woke up entangled with an angel. Least of all, Aziraphale. Well, he supposed of all of them he would mind least in that case. He wouldn't be laying on the floor, though. He tugged the chair closer with a little miracle- surely his brethren wouldn't even notice that one- and sat back against it. He pulled Crowley into the V of his legs and hugged him close to his chest. Crowley shivered and it ran through Aziraphale, too. His body was so very, very cold. Reaching backwards, he grabbed his own cloak and draped it over both of them.

Crowley might not like this when he woke up. But, Crowley would never need to know. Aziraphale would stay awake and keep watch. When he had sufficiently warmed the demon, he would tuck him into the chair. He slipped his arms around Crowley's waist and held him close, resting his chin on his shoulder and watched the flames dance.

-

There was something stirring in his lap. He was instantly awake and instantly remembered his situation. Holding himself perfectly still, he waited to see what Crowley's reaction would be. But, the demon hadn't woken up, after all. He had turned in his sleep: sideways in Aziraphale's lap. His head was fitted into the bit of space below Aziraphale's chin and his arms were wrapped around the angel's middle.

Three things occurred to Aziraphale in that moment:

1\. He had fallen asleep, after all, despite his resolve not to do so.  
2\. There was no way, now, to disentangle himself from Crowley without waking the demon up.  
3\. He had absolutely no desire to disentangle himself from Crowley.

It was the third thing that gave him the most pause, although the others would need to be revisited. Because, you see, Aziraphale had never been on the receiving end of a hug let alone a snuggle. Handshakes, sure. Firm grasps of forearms, plenty. Even air kisses on cheeks, a few times. But, this... this was something different. He felt goosebumps break out over his arms and his cheeks flushed.

It was an odd sensation and should not have been comfortable, but he couldn't deny that he didn't want it to stop. His arms had dropped away, either in his sleep or when Crowley stirred. He lifted them now and hugged Crowley back. In return, Crowley nuzzled sleepily into his neck. Now goosebumps shivered down his spine. His chest was warm, not just from where Crowley sprawled over him, but from the inside. It felt good to be this close to someone. Well, someone he trusted. Thinking for a moment, he realized there really wasn't anyone else he would want to touch him like this.

And when Crowley woke up, they would go their separate ways. What were the odds that a situation like this would ever crop up again? He wasn't even sure why the demon was here, now. To be thwarted, he supposed.

Thwarting... it could wait until tomorrow, right? There was no reason to start it right now. He could indulge this new feeling a little. He was warm and safe, Crowley was warm and safe (he didn't dwell too long on why that second part suddenly mattered more than it had before). With the storm, it was unlikely that anyone would disturb them. There were plenty of hours of night left.

That justified he settled back into the chair, hugging Crowley to him again and stroking his back under the cloak. Crowley hummed contentedly and nuzzled him again. This time he was prepared for how that made him feel and he indulged it. He tried to keep himself awake, but the problem was Crowley was such a comforting weight in his arms. The shared warmth tugged at him until he drifted off again.

-

The last thing Crowley remembered was seeing a blurry light in the distance. He couldn't feel, well, anything. Not his feet or his hands, those were long gone. But his face and his belly had stopped aching a mile ago, the cold that had pained him with each step and breath was gone... But not for a good reason. Each blink of his eyes felt harder, his lids heavier. Increasingly, he was fighting the urge to lay down in the snow. Still he trudged towards the light. It was in a window, he realized as he got closer. Perhaps they would let him in for the night, if he kept his hair over his eyes. He could have a blanket and a warm, dry corner to sleep in. His expectations weren't high or hard to meet at this point. Unfortunately, his world chose that moment to both fade out and swing wildly to the left.

-

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that he was warm. Not just a little toasty. This was “I found a nice, dark, flat rock out in the sunshine of the desert” warm. It was absolutely lovely and he never, ever wanted to move. But the rock under him shifted and he clutched at it instinctively. It wasn't a rock at all, but soft. It gave under his arms, his fingers... his face?

He lifted his head and found himself staring directly into stormy blue eyes. A furrow appeared between them as he continued to stare.

“Angel?”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said it with a sigh of relief. The furrow in his brow relaxed, well, some.

“Not that this isn't nice,” Crowley cleared his throat, “but how did I come to be in your lap?”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably, turning defensive.

“Body heat.”

“What?”

“Body heat!”

Crowley stared at him like he'd gone mad.

“The quickest way to warm someone up is sharing body heat. That's all this is. You needed some heat and I had some. So. Body heat, that's all.” Aziraphale was staring off to the right now.

“That's all, is it?” Crowley teased, smirking at him.  
“What else would it be?” Aziraphale took the teasing for what it was: a lifeline, an out. “Y-you foul fiend. Couldn't have you getting discorporated, could I?”

“Yesss, then you would have to sort out a new recruit. Lots of paperwork. Lots of relearning the enemy. They might send up someone more... efficient.”

Aziraphale gasped dramatically.

“Oh, no, we couldn't have that. You and I have our routine. We have the lay of the land, so to speak.”

“No need throwing that away because you don't want a snuggle.”

Aziraphale choked out a “right” in reply and then fell silent. Crowley watched him, thoughtfully.

“But, you know, I'm still a little chilly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I think if I moved right now I might slip out of consciousness again.”

“That would be terrible.”

“Well, I don't want to trouble you.”

“Still a couple hours until sunrise, dear boy, maybe you should stay put.”

“So I don't get discorporated.”

“Precicely.”

“Well, alright then, if you insist.” Crowley lay his head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder, though he refrained from nuzzling. He thought he saw a bit of a frown, perhaps disappointment, tug at the angel's lips.

“I'm afraid I must, for my own sake. Can't be sending memos up saying I've been down here all this time and I don't even know my enemy.”

“Sure, sure. We have to keep up your reputation,” Crowley patted the angel's arm and sighed softly, relaxing and willing himself to go back to sleep. If he felt fingers gently stroking the small of his back as he drifted, he didn't mention it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


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